


Tugging On Heartstrings

by Nona__AM



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, brief mention of abuse, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-03-11 23:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13535250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nona__AM/pseuds/Nona__AM
Summary: Regina Mills, an ordinary teenager whose life turns upside down after attending a musical show where she runs into the artist's son, Robin Locksley, who takes a shine to her. They exchange numbers and grow close to one another, form a friendship that turns into more, but real life isn't a fairytale, and there are consequences when it comes to being with a famous person. Teenagers/Young Adults OQ—Modern AU.





	1. Chapter One

* * *

She'd been looking forward to this day for as long as she could remember. Graduation day. She'd been hyped up, excited for weeks, her mind painting picture-perfect scenarios of how the day would go, how it would be, the things that would happen, the people that would attend. But, as she stood on the packed stage, her best friends on either side, the diploma she worked so hard on earning all these years clutched in her hands, she fought back tears. They weren't tears of joy caused by the standing ovation or the sight of caps and confetti falling around her, or the muffled sound of their principal congratulating them on ending a chapter of their lives to start another, but because out of the dozen invitations she sent out, only one complied. Her mother.

This wasn't at all how she imagined this day would be. She imagined her family applauding and cheering her, she imagined her father wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug, telling her how proud he is of her—one thing he hadn't done in a long time, another he hadn't done ever.

"Regina, are you okay?"

She was snapped out of her trance by her friend's voice. It was barely audible amongst the noises in the hall, but she heard it and nodded in response, pursed her lips momentarily then offered her a small smile of reassurance. "I'm okay, just tired. It's been a long day, Emma," she lied, and her friend bought it, just as everyone else did. Nothing new, nothing surprising.

It was crazy how much pain one forced smile could hide. Scary, really.

Regina licked her lips and gave a sniffle that was suppressed by the sound of music playing in the background. Not that anyone would've cared if they heard anything or think much of it, they'd assume she was too happy, that those tears were of pure joy and pride, when in reality, they were anything but that. She stepped down the stage and walked, walked, and walked, passing by the other students that were embraced by their loved ones, hugging and kissing them, congratulating them with beautiful bouquets of flowers, and she walked, only stopping near the exit, greeted by the sight of her mother, cradling a small, simple bouquet of her own with a sympathetic smile on her face.

"Look at you," Cora said in awe, handing over the flowers. "You look beautiful, sweetheart."

"Wh—where's everyone else?" Regina asked, though she knew the answer to her own question, it was crystal clear. They weren't here.

"Aunt Eva had to go back home, Mary Margaret's fever spiked again."

Regina nodded.

"Belle was here with Gideon, but he started getting fussy, so they left."

She nodded again, trying her best to be understanding.

"Milah came with Neal, too, but—"

"Let me guess," Regina interrupted with a light scoff. "He got bored and started fussing, too?"

Cora frowned but nodded wordlessly.

"Dad?" Regina croaked.

"He…he called me before the ceremony began and told me that he was leaving with Zelena. She was too bored and wouldn't sit still, so he's taken her to the mall."

Regina chuckled bitterly. Of course he did. It was always about Zelena, even today. "It's my graduation and he decided to take  _her_ to the mall. Why, oh why was I stupid enough to expect this day to be different than any other day?" she huffed, shook her head and quickly wiped away the tear that fell. 

"Regina—"

"I just wanna go home."

Cora sighed and nodded, and Regina was grateful she didn't argue or attempt to explain. There was no further explanation needed, it was obvious; she mattered less. She would  _always_ matter less. Zelena was the apple of their father's eye, she, however, was nothing. 

She removed her cap and tossed it in the back with her diploma, then climbed into the passenger's seat and leaned to the side against the window, quietly gazing out of it. She remained quiet, in the same position throughout the entire ride back home, merely nodding or shaking her head to whatever her mother said—something about having dinner with just the two of them and if she already had plans for an after party with her friends. She didn't. And she didn't want to go out, either. 

She worked so hard to get these invitations, knowing well her family wouldn't be allowed in without them. She skipped classes, stayed after school day was over, and even went back to get them when the principal agreed on giving out a few extras. And out of a dozen, only one showed up. 

How can life be so cruel? 

Her mind played the earlier events—how her day started with her returning home after getting her makeup done at Emma's following their second to last rehearsal. How, for the first time in a very long time, she stood in front a mirror and admired herself, how she looked and actually thought well of herself. She recalled discreetly slipping into her father's bedroom as he took his daily afternoon nap, leaving him an invitation she knew he wouldn't accept, and then he called her as they prepared to line up and get on stage, asking about which entrance he should walk through, and she was over the moon. 

Her happiness didn't last, though, it never did. 

When they arrived home, Regina went straight up to her bedroom and locked herself in. She removed her graduation gown, neatly folded it and hid it at the very back of her closet, as well as the short, pink dress she wore underneath, wanting nothing to do with this day. It only rubbed salt to the wounds. She wiped her face clean of makeup, slipped on her pajamas, and curled in bed with her earplugs on, blocking the world out by blasting her favorite songs, sung by her favorite artist, Kathleen Locksley. 

Kathleen made things better, even if just for a brief moment. She made her forget all the awful things life would put her through, the pain she felt, the demons that clawed at the back of her mind, whispering reminders of how useless she was, how much of a burden she was to everyone around. For a moment, Kathleen and her songs made her feel genuinely happy. 

It helped her drone out these voices and relax. 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter Two

* * *

It's been two weeks since the dreadful day, two weeks and she hasn't spoken a single word to her father. She was angry, furious and rightfully so, but he wasn't understanding of that. He went on with his life without a trace of guilt or a thought as to why she might be so upset all the time. He didn't bother congratulating her the day after the graduation, he barely even acknowledged her existence. Not a  _hello_ or a  _goodbye_ , not even a smile. 

It hurt, but it was the sort of pain Regina was slowly starting to get used to. 

She couldn't remember the last time he walked into her bedroom and wished her a goodnight, as he did every evening with her younger sister, Zelena. She couldn't remember the last time he praised her over something she'd done or told her that he loved her and that he was proud of her—if he'd ever even done that. But she remembered all the awful names he called her all too well. The times he reminded her of how worthless she was, how stupid, how much of a waste of space she was. How he'd spent thousands on her private schooling, only for her to return home with terrible grades. She couldn't help it. She'd study for days on end, ongoing hours, she'd up until dawn with no results, mostly because half of the time she'd focus on the atmosphere in the house rather than her actual studies. She'd focus on the fights and arguments between her parents, or she'd be forcefully shoved in the middle, expected to take sides, and no matter who she chose, she lost. And when she didn't, she lost, too. 

Regina sat in front of her vanity mirror, chewing on her lower lip as she looked over her reflection through the mirror, pinpointing every small flaw and imperfection she could find of herself. Her dark hair, wild and curly, the bags under her eyes, the scar on the right side of her upper lip, the vein popping on her forehead. She could go on for longer, but she had to get ready to leave. She had a party to attend, one she didn't want to go to but she was invited by her close friend and she couldn't possibly refuse. 

That's how she'd always been, never able to refuse anyone's request, always ready to please everyone, even if most didn't care to return the favor. 

Eventually, and after mentally debating with herself on whether she should actually go or not, she got up and got dressed, and out of all the pretty dresses she owned, she settled on a long-sleeved, navy blue, polka dot sweatshirts to hide her darkest secrets. The part of her she wished people would never know about. 

She was known to bring joy to others, the one who's always full of smiles and giggles, who would crack a joke to brighten up the mood and lend a shoulder to whomever is in need of a good cry, listen when people wanted to speak. She was known to be happy, even if they were unmindful of the fact that she hadn't been genuinely happy in a very, very long time. 

* * *

Dressed and ready, light makeup applied and messy hair straightened, Regina left to Emma's house. The rest of them, Malinda and Ella, followed shortly after and they left together to the location Ursula sent them. The marina. On a yacht. In the middle of the ocean. Who throws parties there? Apparently, Ursula did. And judging by their surroundings, the groups of people on every yacht they passed, the quiet and the ones that partied hard and loud, they did, too. 

"Is this the one?" Malinda asked, motioning her index toward the yacht decorated with helium-filled gold and black balloons, and others shaped as the numbers of their graduation year. 2014

It was hard to believe they were high school graduates. They looked so young, they were too crazy and immature to be starting college anytime soon. They still laughed at the silliest things and laughed in serious situations, and it was just a month ago that they skipped classes for the sole purpose of not wanting to attend them and hid in one of the empty classrooms, gossiping about everything that came to their mind, reminiscing the past and visualizing the future, making promises to always be in each other’s lives, to always be in touch. 

“Well, it’s called the _Sea Witch_ , so I would assume it is,” Ella acknowledged. 

She had a good point. The name fit their friend perfectly, given the fact that she was called Ursula and her favorite Disney character just so happened to be Ursula, the sea witch from the Little Mermaid, too.

"About time!" Ursula cried out with her usual wide grin plastered across her face, stepping out of the lounge area to greet them. "I thought you guys were lost." 

"We were," Malinda confirmed. "But your friend, Daniel, offered us a ride."

"He's a sweetheart, isn't he?" Ursula wiggled her brows teasingly at Emma, who failed to hide her bashful, goofy smile. 

They'd seen him before, only through a couple of pictures on Ursula's phone in class, and Emma bombarded her with endless questions about him.  _Who is he? How old is he? Can I have his number?_ and so on. She brought him up in every conversation she could ever since. 

"He's just as hot as I thought he'd be in person." Emma grinned, then gestured over at Regina with a scoff, "But she was convinced that he'd kidnap us or something. She almost had a panic attack over that." 

"Oh that's not true and you know it!" Regina rolled her eyes. "I almost had a panic attack because I was forced into his  _small_ car with these beside me," she explained, waving over at the extra balloons they brought along with them. "I don't like them, most certainly not when they're directly in my face. You never know when one of them is just going to pop." 

"Yeah, yeah," Emma jested. 

Their host merely chuckled and shook her head, beckoning them on board. 

The yacht wasn't too large but it was big enough to fit them all and a few more guests. It was spacious; there was one large lounge in the very center of it, two bedrooms down under and a decent deck upfront where they could lay back or relax against the railings and watch over the ocean. 

"Who else is coming?" Ella queried, shrugging off her faux fur coat and folding it aside on top of one of the seats. "Or will it just be us? Not that I mind," she quickly added.

"Neither do I," Regina concurred. She'd never been a people's person. Being around a large group of individuals, especially ones she didn't know, made her anxious. Parties and gatherings weren't her cup of tea, infact, she rarely ever spent time outside of her bedroom. She'd rather focus on her drawings and paintings, or as her father called them, the  _useless things that'll get her nowhere_. 

"Sorry to burst your bubble, ladies, but there will be a few others joining us. They're just as crazy as us, though, you'll love them," Ursula promised. 

Regina grunted in disappointment—it shouldn’t take long for her anxiety to kick in then. 

However, as the rest of the guests arrived and she met them, it never came. If anything, she felt at ease around most of them. She misjudged them. They were’t rude or snobby as she believed they’d be, not so full of themselves. They were nice and welcoming, all smiles, including her in every conversation and more. Things were going surprisingly well. 

Until the phone call happened. 

_"Hello, dear. What's with all that noise?"_

"Aunt Tatiana," Regina breathed out. "I'm just at a party with a few of my friends," she explained briefly, quietly excusing herself from the group with a polite smile and stepping out of the lounge, sliding the glass door shut behind her to muffle the music and make it easier to hear her aunt through the phone and vice versa. 

_"Ah, I see. Well, I'll let you be. I was just calling because your father claimed you were angry at us for not attending the graduation?"_

She scoffed and fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course he did, he always told his family every little thing that happened at home, whether it was small fights or big ones, whether they even included him or not. He  _had_ to share everything with them. But it wasn't that what annoyed her the most, it was how he'd fabricate the stories to make him seem as the victim, a saint that never sins, never does a single wrong. 

"Yes, I am." 

_"Well, I told you long before the graduation day came along that I don't like being in loud places. It gives me horrible headaches, it's why I didn't come."_

It was a pathetic excuse and downright bullshit. She'd been to louder places before. "Yes, but you could've considered making an exception seeing as I'm your eldest niece, the  _first_ to graduate high school in your family."

_"I apologize, but I already told you my reasons for not wanting to attend. I wouldn't attend my own daughter's, either, if that was the case. But, that aside, I heard you're also mad at him?"_

"Regina?"

The quiet voice caught Regina off guard, startling her slightly. She turned around and found her four friends, Emma, Ursula, Ella and Malinda, standing by the closed doors, all of them wearing a frown and confusion flickering over their faces. She raised a hand and gave them a tightlipped smile, assuring them that all was well, when it wasn't. She was on the verge of tears. 

_"If there's anyone you should be mad at, it's your mother."_

"Excuse me?" Regina spat. "My mother was the  _only_ one there," she gritted out through clenched teeth. "Do you know how awful it was to see all my friends with their families and mine not being there? Do you know just how terrible it felt to walk all the way outside on my own? But thank God, mom was there when all of you weren't." 

_"Your dad would've stayed if she just agreed to take Lena and keep her with her, but she refused and you know how your sister can be, how she behaves. He can't handle her."_

"I know," Regina enunciated. "And I also know that he's more than capable of telling her no, or scolding her for a change. Even better, he shouldn't have brought her when he knew  _exactly_ how she can be." Her voice wavered despite her best efforts to hold herself together, she felt tears prickling her eyes. She hated it, she hated feeling weak. She sucked in a shuddered breath at the feeling of one of her friends' arms securing around her, pulling her in for comfort. All it did was worsen things, though. It had her sobbing, and she rarely ever cried in front of people. 

* * *

"Seriously? Your mother was the only one that showed up?" Emma asked, clearly in disbelief, and Regina nodded, gazing at the sun setting over the horizon and the calm, blue sea. 

They separated themselves from the rest and sat at the very front of the yacht, away from the music, though it could still be faintly heard, as well as their laughs. After all, the only thing between them was a thick glass, nothing more, but it gave them just enough privacy to talk. 

"And they have the audacity to tell me that she's the one I should be mad at, not my dad," Regina said, leaning forward against the railings. She never knew the ocean could bring her such peace. She normally feared the deep, dark waters, hence her hesitation to attend at first, aside from the obvious reason that she was an introvert. But the scent of the bracing sea air, the gentle waves clashing against the bottom of the yacht, tenderly rocking it, calmed her. 

"Just ignored them," Emma sighed, snaking an arm around her shoulders and tugging her closer. "Try to ignore them, even if just for today, for  _now_. We came here to have some fun, you deserve a little bit of that, you know." 

"I know."

"And I think I have the perfect thing to make sure of that."

Regina's brows creased, she pried her attention away from the waters to her friend, watching in wonder as Emma shoved a hand into her purse and ransacked through it for a good minute, grunting and cursing, calling her bag a black hole and a never-ending tunnel before fishing out a...ticket? 

"I was gonna give you this later on but...surprise!" Emma exclaimed, passing over the piece of paper.

And it wasn't just  _any_ ticket. 

It was one to one of Kathleen Locksley's shows. 

"You didn't," Regina whispered, gaping at her, completely dumbstruck. "Emma, I...I..." 

"You're very welcome," Emma replied with a beam. "But you're not going alone. Mal and I are coming, too. You've seen us fangirl countless times before, we never  _once_ saw you." 

Regina laughed and shook her head at that. "I...don't know what to say. It's...wow." 

"Well," Emma started, "you could always ask us to  _please_ not embarrass you, but we both know that we might, and we will." 

"You will," Regina agreed, laughing and launching herself forward, wrapping her arms tightly around her friend. She didn't know where she'd be in life without Emma by her side. She'd known her for years, almost a decade, she was more of a sister to her, one she trusted dearly. 

* * *

Tonight was the night one of her dreams would finally come true. She’d meet the woman that gave her a bit of hope when she thought she lost it all, and she had her friends to thank for that. The research they must’ve done to look for the closest show in time and the nearest one to home, the thought they put into it and the money they paid—it made her heart soar with happiness. A feeling she thought long ago ceased to exist, but it was there, just hidden, tucked away at the very back inside her. 

As eager as Regina was, she was also nervous and stressed. She'd been pacing around all day, tossing one outfit out of her closet after another. Nothing was perfect or near being good enough; one was too short for her liking, another was too long, one was too loose and the other was too tight, and when she did find something she liked, she couldn't find anything else to pair it with. 

"I highly doubt you'll be this stressed if you were getting ready for a date," Mal commented with a snort. 

Her and Emma arrived a little less than an hour ago upon her request, she wanted help, she  _needed_ help. It was clear as day by the looks of her room, the clothes that were scattered everywhere and the fact that she was still in her pajamas. They'd been anything but help, though. 

"I wouldn't be so stressed if you stopped stuffing your face with my peanut butter cups and actually helped me look for something to wear," Regina grumbled, shooting her friend a glare. 

 

"How about this?" Emma suggested, holding up a long-sleeved, white, chiffon blouse in one hand and a short, black skirt in the other, making Regina grimace and shake her head. 

"I didn't even realize I owned that." 

"You happen to own a thong, too," Mal accused, barely able to hold back the grin threatening to break over her face at the way Regina's eyes widened. "Oh, calm down, I'm just kidding. I think you'll actually remember buying something like that." 

 

“Never going to happen,” Regina affirmed, shaking her head. She couldn’t even imagine buying that sort of undergarment—what was the purpose of it anyways? Surely some women wore it to bed, but those women had someone to show it off to, she had none. And even so, she couldn’t imagine flaunting that to someone, that thought alone had her blushing. 

"Okay, how about this?" Emma asked, holding up a pair of light blue, skinny jeans. "It'll look great with that top." 

Regina pursed her lips in thought and took a moment to eye the blouse and the bottom Emma pulled out, mentally picturing them together before nodding her head. "It'll do." 

"Finally!" Mal cried out, popping one last peanut butter cup into her mouth. "Now hurry up and get ready before you end up second guessing your choice, again," she urged, shoving Regina into the bathroom before she had the chance to utter a single word. 

* * *

In spite of the fact that neither Emma nor Mal knew who Kathleen was, they were just as excited as Regina for the show. They were doing it for her but they weren't uninterested, and if they were, they did a pretty darn good job at hiding it. Never once did they huff and complain, and the ride to the show's location wasn't dull and full of hesitation, not even in the slightest. They had the music going, singing along to every song that came on the radio, making up lyrics to the ones they didn't know, and even with their tight schedule, they made a quick stop to McDonalds, ordering a hefty amount of chicken nuggets to share, fries and ice cream for the road. It didn't matter how full they were, there'd  _always_ be some space for chicken nuggets and soft serves.  

"Hey, Mal. Try not to give out your number to every good-looking guy you see," Emma teased. 

"You make it sound like I'm a slut!" Mal huffed. 

"Well..." Emma drawled, raising a brow, and without denying it, Mal laughed and shrugged her shoulders. 

"I'm definitely not a nun, for sure." 

"Quiet, you two," Regina scolded in a hushed tone, shooting them both a glare. Kathleen was about to take the stage, and knowing her friends, they'd be seconds away from discussing one another's sex life. She shuddered at the mere thought of it. "I'd rather hear her sing, not you two bickering over God knows what." 

"She's got a mic," Emma pointed out smugly. "I'm pretty sure you'll hear her miles away." 

Regina huffed irritatedly when Mal leaned in, praising Emma over her witty comeback. Not that she personally found it clever or funny. Just annoying. 

Eventually, the two settled it down a tad. They still bantered but did it quietly, their tones were low and she could barely hear them. But then again, she barely heard anything or noticed anyone when her idol came on stage. 

It wasn’t a big place, certainly not a stadium with millions squeezing into each other’s personal space, it was nice and comfortable enough to keep her anxiety from going through the roof. Kathleen wasn’t the most well-known artist out there, she did have her loyal fans, though—a couple hundreds of them. 

Regina was mesmerized by her voice, lost in the lyrics of her songs, in awe of the strong messages it delivered through. They always helped her during her darkest days, and tonight, it made her happy, had her beaming as she subconsciously slithered her way between the crowd to the front. However, as she neared the stage, she was approached by a figure that stood in her way. She gulped, thinking it was one of the security guards ready to toss her outside for crossing boundaries, but lo and behold, out of the hundreds that were around, she ran into none other than Kathleen Locksley's only child. 

"Hi, I'm—"

"Robin Locksley," she finished for him and he chuckled, making a blush rise to her cheeks. Did he often walk around during shows to greet his mother's fans? 

"I am." He flashed her a goofy grin that bared the dimples on either side of his cheeks. "And I couldn’t help but notice you among the crowd—as cheesy as that may sound,” he added with a chuckle. 

It was such a cheesy thing to say but her heart fluttered at it, and at the sound of his laughter. 

_Get a grip on yourself, Regina_ _._

What was happening to her? She never cared about boys much, she was the only one between her friends that had never been in a relationship before, rarely ever spoke to boys that weren't her relatives of her friends'. But there she was, weak at the knees with butterflies coiling in the pit of her stomach in front this guy and his dreamy accent.  _Of course!_ The accent. It had to be the reason why she felt the way she did. The British accent was known to be quite attractive, she mentally reasoned with herself, though she knew better than to believe it was the sole reason. 

"Hello, earth to Cherry?"

Regina blinked, brows knitted at the sobriquet, one she was completely unfamiliar with. "Cherry? My name's not Cherry, or anything close to that." 

"I'm certain it's something much more prettier," Robin flirted and she responded with a sight at his grin. So much for getting away from her friends for a better experience. She must've missed half of Kathleen's performance being distracted by her son. 

"Regina," she groaned, hoping giving out her name might grant her a moment of peace. "My name is Regina." 

"Regina," he repeated, a permanent smile taking place over his face. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Regina." 

Any other girl would be over the moon to be noticed by, not only an attractive guy, but a guy who just so happened to be the son of someone they looked up to. That wasn’t the case with her, though, and for many reasons. She wasn’t ungrateful but she heard stories about Robin, just enough that made her want to stray away from him. He was the son of a famous mother and a rich father, and that screamed _spoiled brat_ to her, and he was in a rock band, too, meaning he was more than likely to be a player. Was it stereotypical of her? Definitely. And perhaps she was thinking far ahead but she wasn’t taking any chances, she couldn’t afford having her heart broken by a person who more than likely wanted nothing more than a fling. But he wouldn’t go away, he wouldn’t leave her alone. He stood beside her, gawking at her with that stupid smile on his face.

"Regina?" 

She pressed her lips into a thin line and glanced at him, offering him a tightlipped smile. "Yes?"

"I mean it. It's a pleasure meeting you and I...I wanna see you again," he explained, holding out a small piece of paper he fished out of his pocket. His number, she assumed, already written on it, and she couldn't help but wonder if he had dozens of them made in advance, just ready to be handed out to countless other girls. Why else would he have his own phone number tucked in his pocket?" 

"If I agree, would you please let me enjoy the rest of the show?" 

He chuckled, nodding his head. "Yes, sorry. I'm sorry." And with that, he was gone, disappearing and blending into the rest of the crowd, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Not for long, though. 

"That must've been the longest I've seen you interact with a guy that wasn't taking your coffee order," Mal mused. 

Emma nodded in agreement beside her and gestured in the direction he disappeared in. "Who was he anyways?" 

“Nobody,” Regina mumbled, crumbling the paper, and instead of throwing it away, she shoved it into her pocket—only because she cared about his privacy, anyone could find the paper laying around and end up harassing him. Yes, that was definitely it. 

Why else would she keep his number? It wasn't like she longed to hear his laugh again already or hoped to see his boyish grin one more time. She wasn't thinking about calling him, not at all. 

Not at all. 

 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter Three

* * *

She listed one hundred and one reasons not to text him, to tear apart the paper he gave her and throw it away. It was the decent thing to do, and people would talk anyways, she didn't need one more thing to worry about. They’d question her motive—why would she befriend a celebrity’s son? They make up untrue reasons, spread rumors, call her a gold digger, fame seeker, someone who’s taking advantage of the poor boy in order to get close to his mother. None of which were true. It wouldn’t be easy to explain that to strangers, though. She didn’t need the headache that would come along with it. 

But the longer she stayed up, mindlessly staring at the ceiling and replaying the scenes from earlier in her mind, the more she thought about him. The lesser her reasons became, the harder it got to resist the urge to send him a message. 

"Screw it," Regina muttered to herself, rolling onto her stomach and reaching for her phone. She pulled out the crumbled paper, flattened it out on the mattress and dialed the numbers on it. 

It might not even be him, it might just be a lame joke, but what did she have to lose? 

_Hello._

She cringed at her text. It sounded creepy. He might not reply to that and she wouldn't blame him, she wouldn't, either, if she received a similar text from an unknown number. But she didn't wait long before her phone dinged with an answer. 

_Hi?_

She bit her lip at the unexpected reply.

_Who is this?_

He asked, and she wondered if it would be wise to tell him. If it was some sort of a prank, avoiding it would cause less embarrassment, but lying wouldn't exactly be a good start if it wasn't. 

_Wait, is this Cherry?_

It _was_ him. Regina sighed, even though the nickname made her smile a little this time.

_Regina, but yes._

_Hey there! I didn't think you'd actually go through with this, texting me and all._

_I wasn't going to._

_Then what made you?_

It was a good question. What made her text him? Her boredom or curiosity to know why, out of all the people that were there, he approached her? Or was it because she couldn't get him out of her mind, as simple as that?

_Cherry, you still there? You've been typing for quite some._

_I'm here._

_So, what made you change your mind?_

_I don't know._

And it wasn't a lie, she didn't entirely know why she did it.

_Well whatever it is, I'm glad you did :) xxx_

She smiled again, pulling her lip between her teeth before another one of his texts caught her attention. 

_Why are you still awake anyways? It's late._

_I can't sleep, what's your excuse?_

_Aside from the fact that we just arrived home, I can't sleep either._

_Have you even tried to?_

_No not really but I know that I won't be able to if I did try now._

Regina furrowed her brows at his respond.

_Why?_

_Because I'd rather talk to you._

There she goes blushing again, the heat spreading up her neck and to her cheeks. She had Emma and Mal tell her that before, as she'd told them, but never a boy. Let alone, a boy she did find attractive despite trying to convince herself otherwise. 

_You know I won't disappear overnight, right?_

_I know, that still doesn't change my mind._

She rolled her eyes.

_Suit yourself then._

He sent her a grinning face and she couldn't help it, she pictured him instead.

Gosh, what has he done to her? Most nights, it was her thoughts that kept her awake, nothing pleasant, mostly regrets and _what ifs'_ , and now it was him.

_So, Cherry, tell me a little bit about you._

_We'll get to that in a second, I'm more curious to know why you keep calling me that even though you know my name._

_All in good time ;)_

She breathed out a lighthearted chuckle and shook her head at his text. It only intrigued her more, nonetheless, waiting shouldn't be too hard.

They talked some more, sharing general information about one another. He wanted to get to know her better and urged her to list her favorite things, from numbers and colors, to foods and so on. They talked about their families, she passed on hers and heard all about his instead, laughing at some of the things he shared about him and his younger cousin, William. It occurred to her that, regardless of his parents' money, he had a fairly normal childhood, one that, troubles aside, was similar to hers.

He went to the park, played in the mud, skinned his knee trying to skateboard and crashed his bike a handful of times, whether because he wasn't paying attention or he simply sucked at it.

_Cherry?_

_Yeah?_

_Is there a window anywhere near you?_

Regina's brows knitted at his question, it was an odd one, and for a split second she wondered if she'd look outside, would she find him standing there? But it was impossible, he knew her number, not her address. Where on earth would he get that from?

_It's near._

_Okay, stand in front of it._

It kept getting weirder and weirder, more so confusing, too, but she got off her bed and walked toward the window, pulling one part of the curtains aside.

_Now what?_

_Look over at the moon._

She suppressed a laugh, imagining a scenery that would only happen in fictional movies, where the man would carve the face of he beloved on the surface of the moon or her initials in a large heart.

_Okay._

_Are you staring at it?_

_I am._

_Good._

Good? That's all?

_What's this about anyways?_

_We're looking at the same thing at the same time. I don't know, part of me thought this would actually sound romantic, but I guess I didn't word it out right, it might just sound stupid._

But it didn't. It didn't sound stupid, not even one bit. If anything, as intimate as it felt for this to be a conversation between strangers, it made her breath hitch, the butterflies in her stomach stirred to life again.

_Fun fact, I really love looking out at the moon on nights like this._

_So you don't think this was stupid?_

She could almost see his smile through his text, it brought one to her face.

_No, not at all._

* * *

They spent the rest of the night talking to one another, sending texts back and forth until one of his messages went through and he never got one in return. She fell asleep, and he followed shortly after, the darkness enveloped his world and her face was the last thing he saw. The look she had on as his mother performed, the adoration and complete awe she was in. Would she ever look at him with an expression less of a scowl and more of…that? He hoped so.

"Aye, Robin!"

Robin blinked, Will's irritating voice pulling him out of his trance and back to reality. He looked over to his cousin then parents, all three of them laughing at the state of haze he was in. He'd woken up quite early, earlier than one who stayed up all night would like, but gathering around the table for breakfast after a show or an important event was a family tradition they made when he was just a toddler, sharing praises and simply spending a bit more time together.

"Let him be, William. He's busy thinking about that girl from last night," Kathleen told him, unable to force away her sly grin.

"What girl?" Will gaped.

"Tell them, Robbie," Kathleen urged.

"Mom," Robin whined, pushing around the scrambled eggs on his plate. They were meant to be talking about his mother's performance, not this, this wasn't why their special breakfast was made.

"Oh, don't 'mom' me, Robin. I saw you approaching her, you two were right in front of me. You didn't give her your number, though, did you?" she frowned.

He knew she wouldn't be thrilled over that, she was too overly protective of him and Will, trying to shield them both away from the world that came with fame; the rumors, the hate, the scandals and the lack of privacy. But he was eighteen, he could make his own decisions, and should their band grow popular soon, they'd be consumed by fame, too. They'd be exposed to all the downside of being well-known.

"I did."

"Robin—"

"She's nice, mom," Robin protested. "She seems to genuinely enjoy talking to me."

"Need I remind you that you met her at _my_ show? Dear, you know what the means."

"I know, but just because I met her there it doesn't mean she would use me to get to you. Infact, we spoke all night and not _once_ did she bring you up."

"No wonder I was hearing voices coming from your room, I thought you were watching porn again," Will chimed in, stifling a chuckle at Kathleen's gasp and bugling eyes.

Robin shot him a glare. "Good try, but we were texting—and I don't watch porn mom." That was a lie, he was _eighteen_ , but he wouldn't bluntly confess to his mother that he did.

"Just…just be careful, Robin," she pleaded. "Think of all the reasons, the possibilities—"

"Or maybe, for once, I should just follow my gut feeling. I can't explain what I felt last night but when I saw her, mom, I knew I had to talk to her."

Kathleen chewed on her lip and glanced over at her husband who laid his hand on top of hers, giving her a nod and a smile, and she sighed. "Fine, but still, be careful, please."

* * *

 After breakfast was eaten and the subject of the girl he met last night was dropped, Robin went down to the basement with Will, setting up the instruments and readying everything for the arrival of the rest of their band members. They had their first real show in a couple of weeks, they needed every bit of rehearsal possible.

"What do you think Marian will think about this mysterious girl you're talking to?" Will asked, drumsticks in hand.

"Marian doesn't know and she _won't_ know, so let's keep it that way," Robin requested. Marian was a close friend of his, and it didn't help that she was as skeptical as his mother, if not more. He didn't need to answer hundreds of questions and nor did they have the right to snoop around his personal life anyways.

"What do I not know, won't know that should be kept that way?"

Both boys whipped their heads in the direction of the stairs, blinking at the sight of the brunette standing in the middle of it, her arms folded over her chest and brows raised in questioning. _Bloody perfect_.

"Nothing," Robin sighed.

"Didn't sound like nothing to me," Marian scoffed, stepping over closer to them. "Will, fill me in."

"Will, don't," Robin warned.

"William," Marian emphasized.

"Listen," Will began, "it's not my place to tell you. If Robin wants to tell you, he's going to."

"Thank you, Will."

"Oh, piss off, Rob."

"I just don't understand why Will gets to know but I don't," Marian balked with a huff. "Can't trust me to keep a secret?"

"It's not that I don't trust you, Marian," Robin promised.

"Then what is it?" she demanded.

By the looks of it, she was not about to give up, but nor was he. Marian would do nothing but end up scaring Regina away, as she did with every other girl he spoke to. He didn't understand her obsession over them, it's her right as a friend to worry, but she took it to the extreme at times.

"It's nothing," he insisted. "Now where's John? We've got a few songs to rehearse."

As if on cue, the last member of their band arrived, saving Robin from an argument that was about to flare. He loved Marian dearly, she was one of his closest and oldest friends, but sometimes she could be unbearable. She would nose around things that didn't concern her, she'd even gone as far as inquiring one of his dates, asking personal and idiotic questions. He liked that girl, but he never heard from her again.

They played their newly written song on repeat, underlining whatever sounded off and rewrote it, or changed the tune to rhyme with the words. Watching his mother while growing up always made it seem as though this was the easiest job in the world, all one had to have was the voice for it and the will to learn how to play an instrument, he had both, but he was lacking the ability to write. Will did that for them, he wrote almost every song they composed with a little bit of help from his mother, too.

* * *

 "Okay, guys, take a five. I need to use the bathroom real quick," Robin announced, setting his guitar down before running up the stairs in a hurry. The second his footsteps disappeared into nothing, Marian turned to Will with determination written across her face.

"You're going to tell me what's going on and you're going to me right now!" she ordered.

"I promise Robin I wouldn't, so I'm not going to."

"What's going on?" John joined in, oblivious to what happened before his arrival.

"Robin's got a secret, Will knows it but neither of them want to tell me," Marian explained with a whine.

"Let it go," John laughed, shaking his head. "It could be something guy-related, girls also have their own little secrets that they don't wanna share or discuss with us."

Marian narrowed her eyes and huffed, though just as she was about to put the argument to rest, a phone went off. Neither of the boys moved a muscle, it couldn't be their's then, and it wasn't her phone, either—Robin. It was Robin's. She jumped over and fished it out of his leather jacket, taking no notice of Will's panicked expression as she stared blankly down at the screen, eyebrows knitted. "Who's Cherry?"

* * *

 


	4. Chapter Four

* * *

“Who’s Cherry?” Marian repeated demandingly. “Is _she_ the secret Robin doesn’t want me knowing about?” Still, Will refused to answer, merely shrugging his shoulders as a response and that irritated her further. “I swear to God, William, if you don’t tell me who this Cherry is, I will shove those drumsticks up your—“ 

“She’s a friend,” Robin interrupted, standing at the middle of the stairs with a glare fixed on her and his arms crossed over his chest. “And that’s all you need to know.” 

“I know all your friends, Robin. I don’t recall you every knowing a Cherry—what kind of name is that anyways?” she scoffed. 

“It’s not her real name, but again, that’s all you need to know,” he replied, pulling a huff out of his irked bandmate. “Now, back to our songs. We’ve got a show in around two weeks, there won’t be room for mistakes.” He pointed at John. “Play it again from the start, speed it up a tad, it should sound lively. We’re a rock band, remember?” 

 

* * *

**_Eight months later_ **

* * *

They spoke to one another everyday, their usual one to two hours conversations turned into three, and three turned into more, and before they knew it, they found themselves waking up to the other’s _Good morning_ and going to bed with a _Goodnight_ and _Sweet dreams_. It became the new norm, a routine they both easily settled into. Regina knew his secrets, he knew hers. She knew, exclusively, about the album his band was working on and he knew about the trip to New York she and Emma planned. 

It was an idea they got as little children, a pre-college vacation. It was nothing more than a wishful thought at the beginning, but they spent years saving up every dime from every birthday, every Christmas and summer jobs they had, turning it into sweet reality. And finally, against all odds, the day finally came.

Well, almost. 

They'd travel in two days but Emma showed up at her place first thing in the morning, dragging her out to the mall to purchase everything they needed to stay warm in New York, and everything else they didn't need but got anyways. They bought sweaters, scarves, beanies, a couple of boots and other footwear, some pants, pajamas, too. And Regina, somehow, let Emma talk her into buying a few sets of underwear as well. They didn't seem very convenient to wear on regular days; they were made out of a thin fabric and mostly lace, not very comfortable looking, but they were cute and they were half off, and she had extra money on hand to spend. So cute, lacy underwear it was. 

By the time Regina returned home, she was knackered, completely drained out of energy. She dropped her bags on the floor and slumped back into bed, draping an arm over her eyes and heaving out a deep breath of contentment. She was too tired to remove her shoes and change into her pajamas, eyelids growing heavier by the second. She was almost out, when her phone dinged. Once. Twice. And then again.

_Cherry?_

_You there?_

_Regina?_

Three messages from Robin that brought a coy smile to her face. She didn't think she'd be hearing from him anytime soon, not with how busy he'd been lately, but she hurriedly unlocked the phone to answer him, and just as she began typing out her reply, her phone rang, his name flashing over the caller ID.

There was a reason why after eight months of texting back and forth, they were yet to share a phone call. Talking to someone on the phone made her anxious, sending messages, on the other hand, was much easier, it left no room for unwanted stutters that would make a fool out of her.

She swallowed hard and stared down at her phone until it stopped ringing and the screen went black, but only for a moment before it began ringing again. He just wasn't going to give up, was he? She sighed, swiping to answer.

_"Regina?"_

Her heart skipped a beat at the concern that laced his tone. "Robin."

_"I see you've been ignoring me. I wonder what I did to deserve that."_

Though it was impossible, she could've sworn she felt his smile through the phone. He was being playful, his statement sounded light. "Well, being cocky could be one of the reasons," she teased.

_"So there's more than just one reason?"_ He gasped dramatically on the other end, making her chuckle. He was such an idiot at times, she loved it. _"There it is."_

Her laugh faltered and her brows creased. "There's what?"

_"The laugh I've been dying to hear since that night."_

That made her blush, she physically felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

_"I truly believe I may never hear it, not with that death glare you gave me back at the show. You seemed irritated by presence, something I haven't experienced before aside from Will and my mom from time to time."_

"I was," she confessed. It was slightly annoying at first, she went to attend a show to get away from all the troubles that were weighing her down, and Robin seemed to be trouble himself. But, he wasn't. He didn't seem like it so far, he wasn't half as bad as people claimed he was. He was kind and sweet, certainly not cocky and selfish as she thought a spoil rich kid would be.

_"I'm glad that changed."_

She was, too.

Sleep was long forgotten, Regina was wide awake, spending the night talking to Robin, alternating between phone calls and texts, rattling away about many things and starting new conversations at the end of each one. He even played a few songs to her, but she wasn't a fan of electric guitars or the pieces he strummed, nevertheless, he was good at what he was doing. Talented, for sure. She sent him a few pictures of her paintings and got nothing but compliments in return, though she knew, he had absolutely no idea what each artwork meant, it couldn't have interested him, but he did well playing along as if hearing all about them and her favorite artists fascinated him.

_"Aren't you tired at all?"_

"I am," Regina hummed, "but at the same time, not really."

He laughed. _"It must be late where you are. What time is it?"_

She glanced over at the digital clock on her phone at his question and sighed, "Almost three." Has it really been hours since they started talking? It felt like minutes ago.

_"Go sleep."_

"I'm fine," she insisted, though her yawn betrayed her. "I wouldn't be able to sleep if I wanted to anyways."

_"Why's that?"_

"I'm traveling in two days, well, technically tomorrow now that it's past midnight and…" she paused, then sheepishly continued, "I'm not a big fan of airplanes."

_"Cherry's scared of airplanes?"_

She rolled her eyes but murmured, "Yes."

_"Breathe in deeply, love. You'll do just fine."_

"How do you know that? Do you know how many planes go missing—"

_"Do you know that this rarely happens? There are more accidents on ground than there are on air. Now, stop stressing over this. You'll go to New York and you'll have the time of your life."_

She scoffed, "How do you know that?"

_"You will, I promise."_

"You sound like Emma."

_"Emma must be just as wise then."_

She snorted and he chuckled. He always found ways to make her laugh, he put effort into making her laugh. She liked that about him.

* * *

 

Tomorrow came and went in a blink, Regina and Emma spent their first day in the city exploring, sightseeing and window shopping, until their noses turned as red as Rudolph's and the cold chilled them to the bones. They returned to the apartment Emma rented them for the next two weeks, it was a nice one, small and homey but luxurious in its own way. It had two bedrooms, one bathroom, an island kitchen, a living-room, and a breathtaking skyline view of the city from the balcony.

Robin was right after all, she was having a great time so far, and the plane ride wasn't half as awful as she expected to be. She sat by the window and, though mostly were clouds, she had great views to admire. But she was aching all over, the seats weren't comfortable, not one bit, and her sore body was in desperate need of a share. A long, warm shower.

Unfortunately, Emma beat her to the bathroom while she was on the phone, ordering in their dinner. Neither of them had the energy to go out and dine, as tempting as all the restaurants were, so pizza it was.

The sound of the bathroom door unlocking after a while was all too glorious, Regina jumped up to gather her things and head into the shower when a rhythmical knocking on the door stopped her.

"Can you get that?" Emma called out.

Regina huffed. Did she have any other choice? On the bright side, their dinner arrived. She grabbed her pursed and walked over, reaching her free hand to tilt the knob and pull the door open. "How much will it be…" she trailed when her eyes fell on the person across her, eyes bulging in surprise.

"Cherry!"

Robin, in the flesh. He was standing right _in front_ of her, same ol' cheeky grin plastered over his face.

"I brought dinner," he announced, holding out two boxes of pizza. "And a friend," he added, gesturing over at the brunet standing beside him. "Can we come in?"

* * *

 


	5. Chapter Five

* * *

Robin's arrival was unforeseen, but sweet. The last thing Regina expected was for him to turn up at the apartment when he asked for the address. It never crossed her mind that he might do something like that, not with how tight his schedule was. He'd been working day in and day out to perfect each and every song on his band's album. So far, they were good, not the genre she enjoyed listening to, but they were alright. She focused more on the lyrics rather than the deafening music. The words, just like in his mother's songs, were substantial. Romantic in their own way, not what she expected out of a rock band.

He showed up with a friend and food, two large pizzas, one with all the toppings she loved; extra cheese, pepperoni, mushrooms and bell peppers, and another one plain with extra cheese and pepperoni, which both Emma and his friend, Killian, demolished in a matter of minutes. The two hit it off real quick, sharing a lot of interests in common. Emma would definitely gain herself another friend by the end of this trip, judging by how engrossed she was in their conversations.

"What brought you here?" Regina finally asked, the question had been on her mind since she first saw him, but between the shock she was in and Emma encouraging her to let them in, she didn't get a chance to bring it up, until now. She turned her attention away from their friends and over to him, and he was already staring at her, had been the entire time he was around, she felt his heavy gaze burning holes in the side of her head as they ate, too. And when she caught him, he simply grinned. Weirdly enough, it wasn't uncomfortable. "I thought you were all tied up with the album."

"I was," he exhaled, not-so-subtly draping an arm across the couch behind her to lean closer. "But we've been working nonstop and it's almost Christmas, so we gave ourselves a break. I'd like to think we earned it."

"And so you decided to spend your break flying all the way from Los Angeles just to be…here?" she asked.

"To be with you," he correct, and somehow, she knew that, but it still made her heart swell in adoration. She quickly schooled her features, though, not to make it obvious how much of an effect his words had on her. "No one should spend Christmas alone— I mean, I know you won't exactly be _alone_ , you have Emma," he gestured at her friend, "but I think it's more fun with more people around."

Normally, she would disagree on that. The more people around, the more awful it was. She'd get anxious, she _hated_ being in a crowded place. But, this time, he was right. Emma was having a blast already, talking up a storm and laughing out loud with his friend, and she, well, she was enjoying his company. It was a nice change from texting him back and forth.

"I think," she began, glancing over at him with a smile, "you're right."

* * *

The boys arrived at around eight-fifteen and left at a little past midnight. Emma and Killian exchanged numbers and, for the first time in ever, Regina saw her blushing at the Irishman's flirtatious words. Her friend, of course, denied it, but her rosy cheeks proved otherwise. It was adorable.

Robin, on the other hand, left her with a goodnight kiss to the cheek. It caught her off guard and gave Emma something to tease her over until she went to sleep. It was sweet and short lived, but the feeling lingered on her cheek as she laid in bed, staring absently at the ceiling above her with a bashful smile on her face. His lips were soft against her skin, and when he leaned in, she got a good whiff of his scent; pinewood. He smelled strongly of pinewood, and that wasn't one bit terrible or unbearable.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Her phone began ringing right after, Robin's name flashing across the screen. It made her smile grow wider and unlike the day before, she didn't hesitate answering the call.

_"Hey."_

She could hear the smile in his voice. "Hey yourself."

_"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping? It's…uh…one o'clock."_

"I could ask you the same thing. What are _you_ doing still awake?"

_"Would you rather have the truth or the lie?"_

Regina chuckled then droned, "I'm not sure. Shoot me with the lie first."

_"Well, I'm at this amazing party at the Upper East Side. Massive, I tell you, so many famous artists and, I'm having a ball, Cherry!"_

His voice and faux enthusiasm could've easily fooled her if it wasn't for the lack of music in the background, or any sort of noises for that matter. Not to mention, he already told her it would be a lie. "Wow, that sounds…wonderful," she played along, doing her best to suppress her laugh.

_"It is."_

And then there was a pause, it couldn't have lasted more than a couple of seconds but it felt like an eternity before he spoke again.

_"Ready for the truth now?"_

"I am."

_"I can't stop thinking about…"_

He halted mid-sentence, taking a breath while she held hers, her eyes growing a little wider in anticipation. Was he going to say that he couldn't stop thinking about her? Because that was the reason why she was still awake, she couldn't stop thinking about him—

_"…this pizza we had."_

These were not the words she expected to knock the wind out of her chest. She glared down at her phone momentarily before scoffing. Pizza? He was wide awake at one-past-midnight over a stupid _pizza_? "Really?"

_"Oh, god, yes! It was scrumptious. I didn't know these toppings would taste that good."_

"Yes, great pizza," she grumbled. It was stupid of her to even think that an innocent peck on the cheek might mean something. It was even worse that she had hoped, believed that he might want something more than a friendship with someone like her. Idiot. A goddamn knucklehead is what she was.

_"What about you, why are you still awake?"_

"Sure thing," she lied. "Can't stop thinking about that pizza." He laughed at that, and if she hadn't torn down her own hopes by being such a halfwit, she would've laughed, too. "Listen," she feigned a yawn, "I better try and get some sleep. Emma and I are going grocery shopping in the morning. We forgot that we'd need food to survive in an empty apartment."

_"Alright, beautiful. Have a good sleep."_

Beautiful? Dammit. He was making things harder. She stifled a whine and managed out a quiet, "Goodnight."

_"Goodnight."_

* * *

Half an hour in and their cart was almost filled to the brim. There were two dozen eggs, a loaf of bread, ready-to-bake cookies, instant hot cocoa mixes, berries, a large can of whipped cream neither of them needed but bought for the sole purpose that the container resembled Santa Claus, and a lot more that was too much for just two weeks.

"Mac and cheese, elbow macaroni or shells?" Emma asked, holding both boxes up.

"Is there really any difference? It's just mac and cheese," Regina argued, glancing at her friend over her shoulder before turning to the cart to scan over what they might've missed to include. So far, it looked like they included everything they needed and more.

" _Just_ mac and cheese?" Emma scoffed, dumping both boxes into the cart. "I can't believe you would offend me like that, and yes, there's totally a difference. Every pasta shape tastes different than the other."

"And that's scientifically proven?"

"No, but everyone knows that."

"It's nonsense, _that_ is what I know."

"No it's not."

"So, this one," Regina held up the _winter shapes_ edition, "is going to taste entirely different than those two?" she motioned in the direction of the boxes in the cart.

Emma nodded, folding her arms across her chest. "Yes. They'll taste _nothing_ alike."

It was crap and Regina knew it, but she played along and tossed the third box into their cart with an eye roll, then carried on down the aisle, grabbing other necessities.

* * *

"What's got your panties in a twist?"

"Huh?"

"You've had this scowl on your face ever since you woke up, and you barely even spoke, it's like you're avoiding talking or something."

Has she, really? Regina didn't realize that. But, if she had to be frank, she was a little out of it, between thinking of the conversation she had with Robin the other night and how stupid she felt during it and after it. "I'm fine."

"That's exactly what a person that _isn't_ fine would say," Emma asserted, turning to face her with her back pressed to the kitchen counter. "So, tell me. What's up?"

"Nothing's up, Em," Regina insisted, keeping her focus on the dry ingredients laid out in front of her for the pancakes rather than her friend. It was nothing, though. Nothing _important_. It was a simple, daft misunderstanding, that was all to it. "I'm fine, everything's fine — pass me the buttermilk, please."

Emma huffed but complied, plopping the carton in front of her. "You know that I don't believe you, right?"

"I know." Regina measured half a cup and poured the liquid into the smaller bowl on her right. "But I also can't bring myself to care right now. So, crack me an egg and add a splash of vanilla to it, will ya?"

"Giving me things to do won't stop me, you know. I'm good at multitasking, just incase you haven't noticed that after seven years."

"It was worth a shot—" Regina's sentence was interrupted by the knocking on the door. Three knocks. Pause. Three more knocks. Another pause. She lifted her head and looked at her friend with brows creased in wonderment. "Are…we expecting someone?"

"Killian and Robin," Emma answered easily as she padded out of the kitchen to get the door.

"What?" Regina exclaimed, her eyes widening dramatically. "You invited them over?" she accused in a hushed tone and her friend nodded. "But why?"

"Why not? They asked if we're busy today, I said no, they offered to come over and I agreed. You enjoy talking to Robin, I enjoy talking to Killian, it's a win-win situation."

Regina huffed and reached to her left, turning the volume up on her bluetooth speaker to block out any sound, specifically _his_ , with some music.

* * *

_Twinkling nights, crackling fires, let's watch the snow_

_Wintery nights full of desires that dreams only know_

_Don't you know? This song is for you, my dear_

_This Christmas I long to hear that finally the view is more than a dream about you, me and mistletoe_

"In a festive mood?" Killian remarked at the Christmas song blasting in the background.

Emma chuckled and gestured behind her with an eye roll. "It's Regina. She can't—"

"Do anything without music on," Robin butted in. "Oh, I'm sorry," he quickly apologized for interrupting with a sheepish smile. "It's something she told me she does a while back. I take it she's making breakfast?"

"She sure is," Emma confirmed, stepping back to allow them in. "Flowers?" she questioned, nodding at the bouquet of red and white roses Robin cradled in his arms.

He nodded. "It's just…a little something."

"It's sweet, she'll love it. Anyways, make yourself at home," Emma announced as she walked away from them.

Killian didn't waste a single second doing so, removing his shoes and hanging his coat up before slumping down on the couch. Robin, however, closed the door behind him and walked straight into the kitchen where Regina was, ever so slightly swaying her hips and humming along the song as she laid out a bunch of plates and bowls on the counter, occasionally muttering incoherent words before going back to crooning the melodies. The sight brought a broad smile to his face. And as ever, she was beautiful. Her hair was a tangled mess of curls, waves and ringlets, and he loved it that way, he preferred it that way. She wore a baggy sweater that hung off her right shoulder and the sleeve was rolled up her arm, she had sweatpants on to accompany it and a pair of fuzzy socks that made him snigger. That indeed was a great sight to walk in on.

_Jingling bells, cozy hotels, we're dressed for snow_

_All that I miss is a Christmassy kiss from an angel I know_

"If a kiss is what you wanted, all you had to do was ask. No need to play romantic songs and drop hints," Robin goaded, but his joke was short-lived when Regina jumped with a gasp and almost dropped the bowl in the process.

"You could've killed me!" she accused with a glare.

"I hardly think breaking a single bowl would kill you, Cherry."

"No, but a heart attack is capable of — one you could've easily given me by sneaking up on me like that."

Robin fought the urge to roll his eyes and approached her, setting the flowers down on the other side of the counter. He watched her eyes follow them but she remained quiet. "Pancakes?" She hummed. "What's with all the bowls?"

"I'm making different ones. Emma wants a stack of chocolate chip pancakes, I'm having both plain and chocolate chip ones, and I wasn't sure what you and your friend would want," she clarified.

"Killian likes his plain, I'll have a Cherry with mine."

"What?" Regina emphasized, her eyes bulging at his answers.

"Cherries," he stuttered, "I'd like some c—cherries with mine."

* * *

Contrary to what Robin believed, his moronic mistake didn't make things awkward between him and Regina — they were already tense to begin with. She ignored him and whenever she did speak to him, she avoided making eye contact. He pressed and persistently asked if everything was okay, her answer returned the same every time; _everything's fine._ It wasn't, but he left it at that, for a bit.

He distributed the pancakes between them all, placing two in each plate; chocolate chip pancakes for Emma, plain ones for Killian, cherries for him, and a chocolate chip and a plain one for Regina. He served hers with a little whipped cream heart on top, fully expecting her to ignore it, as she ignored him all the while he was around, but she looked up and flashed him a smile. It was a small yet breathtaking smile.

One step at a time.

They ate over small talks and random conversations, discussed their plans for the day ahead and the upcoming days they planned on staying. Christmas was nearing and they had absolutely no idea how to celebrate it. A turkey for four people would be extreme, needless to say, the bird was off the table. Gifts will be exchanged, decorations, however, won't be put up. Buying them only to use them for less than two weeks would be pointless, as pointless as getting a tree would be. But, Christmas won't be the same without one.

So, Christmas shopping it was.

"Why do you need tapes?" Regina asked, tagging along by Robin's side after their friends left them upon arrival and disappeared somewhere in the market.

"You'll see," he replied and stopped in front of the variety of mini ornaments. "Which ones do you like best?"

"Why? We don't even have a tree."

"Gods, Cherry, just pick one," he urged and she sighed, waving over at the box of red, white and green ones. "Perfect."

"What's this all about?" she reiterated.

"Patience," he rebuked lightly.

"Don't you know that curiosity killed the cat, though?"

He laughed. "There's beauty in patience, Cherry. Trust me, all in good time."

They grabbed the box of ornaments, a pack of Christmas edition washi tapes, a roll of black cotton twine and lastly, four stockings. Being in New York for a short period of time didn't mean they couldn't celebrate Christmas the way it should be. And from what she told him, all the terrible ones she endured in the past, he was determined to make this year different, make it special. A little worthwhile.

All four of them arrived back to the apartment by noon, and while ordering in from the little, local Italian bistro across the street was tempting to start their lazy day in with, they settled on boxed mac and cheese to prove Emma's point instead. During the time she was off preparing two boxes of it with Killian by her side, Robin and Regina stood in the living-room, both with their arms folded across their chests.

"So," Regina began, "why are we staring at the wall?"

"Because we're trying to figure out how to put the Christmas tree up."

"But we didn't get a Christmas tree, and who puts a Christmas tree on a _wall_?"

"Yes, we did." Robin turned to her with a beaming face and held up the green washi tape, motioning it in the direction of the wall. "Christmas tree, on the wall."

"Oh, so _that's_ why you wanted the tapes."

"Indeed it is. It doesn't have to be a traditional tree as long as it is a tree. Now, can you help me with the ornaments?"

Regina tied the ornaments in rows of twine by their handles, alternating the colors as she went. Red, white, green, and then red, white and green again, as Robin cut straight lines of tape and stuck them on the wall to shape a tree. It was a little crooked, a little off-centered, too, but he did a good job on it, if he would say so himself. It was a pretty tree. And once the ornaments were up, it was beautiful — as far as a sticker tree would go.

"I think," Robin slipped an arm around Regina's waist, tugging her closer to his side while they admired their handiwork, "we did a pretty darn good job, don't you think?" She didn't answer him, though, she stared at him, mouth agape, and it took everything in him not to close the small distance between them and kiss her. _One step at a time_. He didn't want to scare her off. He cleared his throat and loosened his grip, looking straight ahead at their sticker tree again. "I think we did wonderfully."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any idea why he keeps calling her Cherry?


	6. Chapter Six

* * *

They've been in New York for a week now and snow still hasn't fallen. Maybe she was impatient, or maybe she was just cursed with bad luck and it won't fall this year because she was there. It could be either, but with how her life had been since birth, she settled on the latter. She was definitely, most certainly, without a doubt cursed with a horrendous luck.

Snow was the reason they chose New York as their holiday destination. It'd been one of Regina's many dreams to witness the first snowfall and have a white Christmas, sip hot cocoa by the fireplace under a pile of blankets with the carols crooning dimly in the background. But, given by the lack of clouds in the sky and the weather forecast app on her phone, it'll mostly be cold and windy with no chance of snow.

At least she had the perfect company, she won't have a reason to complain about this year's Christmas possibly being as awful as the previous ones. Granted, it won't be as she planned without the snow, but she had Emma by her side, and Robin and Killian have been spending more and more time at the apartment with them. They'd show up first thing in the morning and leave by midnight. And while that was great, it had a slight downside to it, it left her feeling conflicted.

_Robin_ confused her.

One moment he's embracing her and flirting with her, and then the next he's keeping his distance. It messed with her mind and screwed with her feelings — did he like her as a friend or more? She didn't know, she wasn't sure she'd know.

Regina pushed those thoughts away with a sigh and admired the massive tree in front of her, twinkling with hundreds and hundreds of lights in every color of the rainbow. They decided to do something more than shopping and mindlessly walking around the city for a change, and headed down to Rockefeller Center.

It was beautiful but crowded, and she never did well in large crowds, but as if Robin could sense her discomfort, he stepped to her side and slipped his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together and keeping her close by him. Friends did that, friends held hands, it was a kind, innocent gesture, but what friends _didn't_ do was stroke her knuckles with the pad of their thumb as Robin continually did. It gave her false hope, but it was too comforting to let go. It did help soothe her anxiety.

"Oh, Regina!" Emma cried out in excitement, pointing in the direction of the ice rink. Her beam was as wide as a child's on Christmas morning, Regina, however, wasn't in the least bit excited.

"You go head, I'll just…watch by the railing," she waved off. Ice skating, as beautiful as it was, it wasn't something she knew how to do. She never stepped a foot on ice, the last thing she wanted was to slip on her butt and make a fool out of herself in front of all these people, and Robin, too. Especially Robin.

"Come on," Emma whined. "I don't wanna go alone."

"I volunteer," Killian chimed in with a grin on his face, and her best friend just about managed to contain her delight as she bobbed her head in acceptance, and just like that, the pair was gone, disappearing into the mob.

Regina was left alone with Robin, their fingers still entwined and she almost forgot about that, until she felt him squeeze her hand. She looked up at him and was met with a frown.

"Why don't you wanna go?" he asked and she simply shrugged. "It'll be fun. We did say we'll make the best out of this vacation, didn't we?"

"We did, it's just…ice skating isn't really my thing," she admitted in a quiet murmur, barely audible, but she didn't have to repeat what she said as his creased brows was replaced with a soft expression and a smile. "Although I'm sure everyone around will be entertained by me falling over and over again."

"Is that why you didn't want to go? You're scared of falling?"

"I'm not scared of falling," she defended with a scowl.

"Then what is it?"

She pulled her lip between her teeth, then huffed, "I—I'm _embarrassed_ by the idea of falling in front of all these people."

"Everyone falls, Cherry. I hardly think their eyes will be on you, for all you know, they could be trying not to fall themselves," he assured. Somehow, there was something about his words, the way he delivered his point through, that reassured her and put her mind to rest. She nodded, and before she knew it, he was pulling her to chase after their friends and rent their skates.

* * *

 

The first step was awful, the second wasn't any better. Regina clutched tightly onto the railings, her eyes wide and wild as she dragged herself forward. The others didn't face the same troubles as her, they flew across one side of the rink to the other, skating smoothly over the slippery ice, while she couldn't even keep her balance. It was embarrassing, children as young as five were doing a better job at it than her. Luckily, Robin didn't leave her side, always one step ahead of her, his arms held out to catch her incase she falls, making her feel like an infant taking her first steps. She blamed her blush at the cold weather when she knew perfectly well that wasn't it. It was this, the entire situation she was in.

"See, you're doing…good," Robin encouraged hesitantly, and she stopped and stared at him with a straight-face.

"Are you for real? I barely took five steps, and I haven't even let go of the railings yet." And she wasn't planning on doing that, not as long she was still on ice.

"But at least you're trying, that's something," he motivated. 'Now, come on, keep sliding my way."

Regina huffed but did as she was told. Doing it often certainly didn't make it any easier, every step she took still felt like the first; nerve-racking. Robin was patient, though, instead of standing in front of her, he moved beside her and looped their arms together, and despite her wrangling he pried her away from the edge.

She was scared, there was no denying it, she held onto him with both hands, but he didn't laugh. Never once did he belittle her over her lack of experience, and opposite to what she believed, he was right, no one was staring at her, even when she slipped and he caught her. Everybody was absorbed in their own little world, just like Emma and Killian, chasing after each other and laughing.

"All good?" Robin asked, pulling her out of her trance and she nodded. "Have a little faith in yourself, Cherry. You're doing great for a first-timer." He seemed genuine this time, unlike the first time he tried reassuring her that she wasn't so terrible.

"Doing great is skating like them," she nodded her chin toward the children that moved across them. "I'm holding onto you for dear life, I don't think that's doing great."

"It's great," he insisted. "You let go of the railings, that's a big step."

"I suppose."

"Baby steps," he whispered and gave her hand a squeeze. "And then you'll outrun me before you even know it."

She chuckled. "You're very hopeful. I don't think that'll ever happen."

"Maybe, maybe not."

They continued skating, going around the rink in a full circle, still wrapped up in each other's arms. He never let go but she loosened her grip on him a little, feeling a bit more confident after seeing Emma and Killian run into one another in full speed and tumble down on the ice. They laughed it off, and she and Robin laughed at them, too.

It was great, she was having the most fun she'd had in ages, and she owed it all to Robin. She would've missed out on so much if he hadn't convinced her. But all that bliss only worsened her confusion. She still had her wonders, thoughts on whether he thought of her as a friend or more. To her it was more. She liked him…a lot. She liked him too much that it scared her. She was scared of being disappointed, scared of having her heart broken by his rejection. But everything he said, everything thing he did, it all pointed to the possibility of the feeling being mutual.

He would hold her hand, lace their fingers together, stroke her knuckles, and he would wrap his arms around her, kiss her cheek, let it linger. He would spend his days and nights talking to her. And he would stare at her as if she was a summer sunset and tuck her hair behind her ear, subtly brushing his hand over her cheek. He did all the things that made her heart skip a beat, all things _just friends_ wouldn't do.

Maybe he was nervous, that was one possibility. Maybe he didn't know how to take the first step or when to, or maybe he was waiting for her to take the plunge.

"Hey, guys."

Regina turned at Emma's voice only to find her and Killian standing beside her and Robin, a cheeky grin plastered over both their faces, and Emma's outstretched arm between them…holding a mistletoe. Never mind when they approached them, it was when and how they got the plant. They were never out of their sight, just in front of them.

But this was it. This could be the sign they were both awaiting, the moment that could change everything. She looked up at Robin, searching his eyes for his intentions before hers fell to his lips, then fluttered shut in preparation for what was to come. Her heart was pounding beneath her ribcage, thumping away in her ears.

And his kiss came, just not how she expected it.

Instead of a traditional kiss on the lips under the mistletoe, Robin pecked her cheek. Friendship, a kiss on the cheek signified a friendship — that was all to it.

It wasn't about being nervous, it wasn't about finding the perfect moment because that was it, that was the perfect moment, and it slipped away. She simply wasn't _more_.

Regina pressed her hands to Robin's chest and pushed away from him, her eyes burning with tears of humiliation. She was mortified. Like an idiot, she was standing there, holding her breath, her eyes closed as she waited for him to kiss her. She had to get away, but the goddamn ice was too slippery, one swift turn and she fell. Robin came rushing to help her up but she shoved his hand away. The fall wasn't what embarrassed her anymore, but her thoughts. Fortunately, they were right by the exit when it happened. At least _something_ happened to her liking.

* * *

 

Everything happened too quickly, one moment they were laughing at their friends and the next, she was pushing him away and scrambling out of the ice rink. It left Robin bewildered. Has he done anything to offend her? That was something he hoped he'd never do, hence opting for her cheek rather than her lips. As enticing as it was, he didn't want to cause her discomfort, he wasn't sure if she felt the same as way.

He liked her. He liked her quite a bit that he decided to take a break from his family's holiday traditions to spend Christmas with her — who does that? Who would travel across the country to surprise a girl he'd only met once and spoken to over the phone for eight months? It was crazy, this entire thing was and he knew it, but there was something about her that drew him to her. She was a kind soul, and genuine. She enjoyed talking to him for the sole purpose of befriending him, and she didn't pretend to like his music as others did, but she still listened to every new verse and chorus he played to her and gave her opinion. She didn't hum and nod and go on with her day whenever he complained, she heard him out, and when he had doubts, she expressed her thoughts and guided him. She was different, she was special. And she was gone.

By the time they were out of the ice rink and returned their skates, Regina was nowhere to be found. She ignored the first three calls they made and then by their fourth attempt, she turned her phone off. Emma took Killian and headed back to check the apartment incase she went there, and Robin's heart took him to Central Park.

He might've only known her for less than a year, nothing compared to Emma, but that was enough for him to know how she thought and the decisions she'd make, and lo and behold, she was right where he expected her to be, sitting by Bethesda Fountain, staring into the water. He didn't have to look for long, he merely followed his gut feeling and it led him straight to her.

She looked tranquil, he almost didn't want to disturb her, but he moved ahead and walked over to her.

His presence wasn't welcomed. She glanced at him then huffed irritatedly when he sat down beside her, but her attitude alone won't push him away. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Why did you run off like that?"

"Nothing."

He suppressed a sigh at her short answer and attempted again, "You tried getting away from me like I was some sort of a disease, Cherry. I don't think that's nothing."

"Well it is nothing," she affirmed. "Just…just leave me alone."

He didn't, though. He didn't move a muscle, staying in his place and remaining quiet. She'd speak whenever she felt like it, he won't press further.

Sure enough, less than ten minutes of silence, she sighed, "Why are you even here, Robin?"

"Because you ran off and I'm trying to understand why—"

"No, not that," she cut him off, finally turning to face him. "Why are you _here_ in New York?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She scoffed. "You think this is funny? That this is some kind of a joke to you to mess with my mind and keep sending mixed signals?" She got up on her feet and folded her arms, brows creased in anger, but her eyes reflected pain. She didn't give him a chance to ask for an explanation when she continued, "You message me first thing in the morning and talk to me all through the day till we both fall asleep at night, and you send me these sickly sweet texts. You flirt with me, you wrap your arms around me, you hold my hand. You fucking flew all the way from Los Angeles to spend Christmas with me and that's not something regular friends do, Robin." She closed her eyes momentarily and sucked in a shudder breath, then sniffled and looked at him, her eyes welling up with tears. "Friends don't do what you do, but then you…you say or do something and it makes me realize that I…I'm hoping for something that'll never happen because it's just a _friendship_ to you. It's not more. So please, I'm begging, I've got a lot on my plate as it is. If that's all you want, then keep it friendly. Don't kiss my cheek, don't hold my hand like you do, better yet, don't hold my hand at all. Don't pull me on your lap when we're watching a movie and wrap your arms around me. Don't tell me to look out at the moon because you're staring at it, too. Don't—"

She didn't continue, Robin didn't let her carry on listing all the things he wanted to do but wouldn't be able to because of a simple misunderstanding. He cupped her face and silenced her with a firm kiss to her lips, and it softened as soon as she reacted to it, returning it with a muffled sob and a sniffle. He brought her closer and felt her arms slip around his neck, her body melting into his.

It never crossed his mind that she might've felt the same way. She wasn't cold toward him, but she didn't show any interest, or perhaps she did and like a fool he never noticed. Either way, he wanted her, she wanted him, and in that moment, he was the happiest fool.

It was her that broke the kiss, instead of a scowl, she was beaming at him. Not the same admirable smile he saw on her face back when he first laid eyes on her, but it was equally as wide, equally as dazzling and equally as breathtaking.

"Feeling better?" he asked with a hint of playfulness lacing his tone and she responded with a chuckle, pressing her head to his chest. He laughed and brought a hand to the back of her head, massaging her scalp affectionately with the pad of his fingers while the other slid up between them to wipe any traces of tears left on her cheeks.

"I shouldn't have ran like that, it was childish of me. I'm sorry—"

"Don't apologize," he interrupted, moving the hand on her head to cradle the side of her face, and the corners of his lips tipped up into a smile when she leaned into it. "Let's not talk about what happened then, instead, let's talk about," he paused, using his thumb and forefinger to tilt her chin up just in time for a snowflake to fall on the tip of her nose, making her scrunch it up and laugh, "this."

"It's snowing!" she guffawed. "It's actually snowing."

It certainly was. The first snowfall of the season right after their first kiss. He didn't believe in signs, but this, for sure, was the universe's way of showing him that they were meant to be.

* * *

 

Their Christmas Eve wasn't a traditional one. They had a makeshift tree assembled with washi tapes on the wall and a few boxes of awfully wrapped gifts beside it, and their dinner wasn't a feast with an enormous turkey or glazed ham, stuffings, mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, gravy and more. It was a variety of takeout. There was Chinese, a mix of everything that was on the menu, a large pizza for them to share and grocery-store sushi. Nothing fancy, nothing that required work from them, but by far, this was the best Christmas Eve Regina ever had.

The snow was falling outside, coating everything in white, and they huddled up under thick blankets after dinner, Emma and Killian on one side, her and Robin on the other, sipping hot cocoa and nibbling on the cookies she and Robin spent the afternoon making.

It was a lot of fun. They laughed more than they slogged, and they ended up burning a batch, only slightly, because of it. And when it came to decorating them, they used store-bought icing and sprinkles and Robin created a replica of her. It was dreadful, it looked hideous, but she praised him anyways and rewarded him with a kiss.

His effort was what mattered.

Emma retired for the night not long after Killian left, but Robin stayed behind, claiming he was too comfortable and not quite ready to go just yet, and who was she to argue with that? She enjoyed being in his arms more than she thought was possible, she loved the way he played with her hair and caught her off guard with sweet kisses every now and then as _Elf_ played on the television.

She loved this. Even though she'd been against being in a relationship for the longest time and called her friends stupid for wasting their time stressing over boys, she loved that Robin consumed all her thoughts, she loved being wrapped up in his arms and she loved when he stole kisses from her when she least expected it. She loved it whenever he'd hold her hand and bury his face in the crook of her neck in an exuberant demeanor. She loved that he made her forget all the bad things in life and filled her heart with the joy she never thought she could have. And against her better judgment and knowledge that wonderful things don't last forever, she might even love him.

She _knew_ she loved him. So she was going to make the best out of the last two days she had with him before they part ways again, make it unforgettable.

"Hey, Cherry?"

"Yeah?"

"Merry Christmas."

It was twelve on the dot, he didn't even miss a single second. She looked up at him and grinned. "Merry Christmas, Robin."

* * *

 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters were uploaded prior to this one, check them out incase you missed them!

* * *

One day.

They had _one_ more day to spend together before parting ways and returning to their everyday lives.

He would go back to Los Angeles and focus on his music and building his career, and Regina would be miles away in Florida, doing whatever she enjoyed doing, be it writing her marvelous poems and short stories or painting magnificent illustrations out of her never-ending imagination, or simply relaxing for the remainder of her gap year.

It was glum how expeditiously their vacation ended. Robin wasn't ready to let go of her, not when he didn't know for sure when they'd reconnect again. So he made it his mission to make their last day their best day yet—starting with a candlelit dinner.

Cliché, but sometimes the cheesy things in life were the best.

It began with him calling up Regina first thing in the morning and apologizing for the sudden change in plans, attempting to sound as remorseful as he possibly could as he explained why he couldn't accompany them all to Times Square. She seemed disappointed and he almost told the truth. Almost.

Then came the trickier part. Dinner preparation.

Although he grew up helping his mother in the kitchen whenever she had the time to cook a hearty meal, he wasn't a chef. He knew how to roughly chop up vegetables, scramble some eggs and make sandwiches with cold cuts, and he didn't have any trouble with instant food, either, but nothing worthy of a sappy candlelit dinner.

Takeout was always an option—he'd rather them eat something edible without the concern of possibly getting food poisoning, but it wasn't _romantic._

Neither was the one-pot chili mac and cheese he came across on a food blog website, but it was the easiest recipe he found that had great reviews, dozens of people raving about how simple and fast it was to prepare it, and how their families and friends scarfed it down and went for seconds, and how someone with little experience in the kitchen, such as himself, could make it without much trouble. And did he mention that it was a _one-pot_ recipe?

So, one-pot chili mac and cheese it was.

As for dessert, he headed down ninth avenue and picked up a cake from Amy's Bread bakery. Everything on their menu sounded delicious, mouth-watering, making it harder to choose, and he found himself torn between the Brooklyn Blackout and the Lemon Mousseline. Regina loved chocolate but she also enjoyed lemony desserts. At the end, he settled on the latter, knowing after a heavy dinner, they'd have little room for something equally as heavy as the Brooklyn Blackout.

Robin also bought her flowers. He wanted something other than the usual red roses and she didn't have a favorite he could opt for; she loved all flowers equally. However, the florist did a fantastic job picking a few for him, then sent him off with a beautiful arrangement of pretty myosotises, white dittanies and fully bloomed gardenias. It was an odd combination, but it was simple and elegant, and the lady assured him it'll bring a smile to his girlfriend's face. He took her word for it and hoped Regina would like them.

* * *

 

To say that she was bummed out at Robin's call would be an understatement.

Regina was hoping to spend the entire day with him, something a little more than just a brief moment at the airport to say goodbye before heading back home. She was disheartened but understanding, and she didn't want to come off as the unbearably clingy girlfriend, so she didn't try to argue with him.

It still bothered her, though.

The outing wasn't very enjoyable and she found herself lost in her thoughts more often than she paid attention to whatever Emma and Killian were saying or the places they visited.

After a late lunch and four hours into being the third wheel, she feigned a headache and left them at Macy's and returned to the apartment. She'd take advantage of having the place all to herself for a little while, stuff her face with junk food and cry out of frustration—maybe then she'll feel better about…everything.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside with a heavy sigh, and in the process of removing her shoes, her eyes fell on the red and white rose petals scattered across the floor, leading down the hallway and into the living-room. That wasn't all to it, though. The lights were turned off, the only illuminations came from the tea candles that were lined up into a path for her to follow, and the moonbeam, and…the aroma. Something rather pleasant smelling was cooking in the kitchen.

Regina scrunched up her face in confusion, hung up her coat and gingerly walked along the lane. "Hello?" she called out, and that _might've_ not been the brightest idea. _That_ was how people got killed first in horror movies—walking right in and greeting the intruder. However, an intruder wouldn't lay down flowers on the floor, and an intruder surely won't cook dinner, either. Could it be—

"Cherry!"

Robin? She frowned, brows creased in wonder. Wasn't he too busy to spend anytime with her today, though?

"Right in time," he assented, walking out of the corner and enveloping her in a tight hug, followed by a quick peck on the lips when he stepped back. He was grinning from ear to ear while she was stuck in her daze. "Surprise."

"Wh—what's all this about?"

There were more petals across the room, more tea candles brightening the place, and the couch was pushed back a little and turned around to support the blanket fort he set up in the center of the room. It was magnificent, decorated with fairy lights and the little ornaments from their makeshift Christmas tree, and there were paper stars hanging around the inside of their little tent with leftover washi tape and twine, and it was furnished with a blanket and multiple cushions for their comfort, two glasses for the sparkling apple juice and two plates with nicely folded napkins on top of them. It was also messily done. One wrong move and the entire thing could collapse on them, nevertheless, it was beautiful, he put so much effort into it, she could tell. And she loved it.

"With how busy both our lives is going to be, it could be months before we meet again," he explained briefly. "And while I'll still talk to you everyday," he assured her with a goofy grin and snaked one arm around her waist, pulling her closer, then lifted the other and cupped her chin affectionately. "I wanted to make this day special for us. For you."

Regina was at lost for words. No one has ever put such effort into anything for her before, not even on special occasions. Her graduation, unlike her friend who celebrated it with a full-blown party on a yacht, she stayed home and ordered in, because her father didn't really care and her mother was busy at work, and her best friends were wrapped up in their own familial bubble, accepting gifts and praises over finishing high school. And her birthdays were often celebrated either alone or with Emma, Mal and Ella, and a store-bought cake. Nothing too grand, nothing too exceptional, same old story every year.

She glanced back at everything once again in complete awe, taking in every little detail with tears shining in her eyes. Robin's thumb brushed over one side of her face to catch the droplet that fell before his lips grazed her temple, and she sniffled, turning her attention to him with a grin lightning her entire face.

"No, no. What we're _not_ going to do this evening is cry," he chided her lightly with a pout, making her chuckle.

"I'm sorry. It's just…" She heaved out a breath and looked around, gesturing at everything he'd done for her. "All this is—"

"Is what you deserve and more," he cut in, then put an end to her attempt at an argument with a quick kiss. "Now, let's get right into eating. I'm starving!"

* * *

Dinner was excellent, if Robin does say so himself.

He never made anything from scratch before, never on his own. He thought the entire building would end up in flames and him and Regina would spend their last day together hanging outside in the freezing cold, being stared down at by the firefighters and the people whose home almost demolished because of him.

Nothing of the sort happened, though, he did cut his finger. And logically speaking, a kiss wouldn't make it better, but when Regina pressed her lips to the small cut, he claimed otherwise and admired her _magical_ touch with a frolicsome wink.

The lemon cake was the right choice, judging by Regina's hums and moans that followed every bite, and although it was tasty, it wasn't his favorite. He wasn't a fan of citrusy desserts, or citrus fruits in general.

It was a five from him; six, perhaps—it made his girlfriend happy.

Dishes were rinsed and leftovers were packed away, and the spot they sat and ate on was cleaned off before they laid down, staring up at the faux stars hanging above them. It was nothing like the real thing. Nothing like laying outside on the grass and staring up at the beaming crystals blinking down at them from the night sky. They could've moved out to the balcony and spread thick blankets to lay and huddle up in instead of him sticking stars he cut out of papers around the inside of the blanket fort, but with how each skyscraper stood taller than the other, shedding bright light on the entire city, it would be near impossible to spot the stars.

But Regina didn't seem to mind.

She had a wide smile plastered across her face, her eyes twinkling as she complimented every badly shaped star he put up. He wanted to believe her, he truly did. He wanted to believe that they were _impressive, adorable, the cutest thing_ she'd ever seen, but he'd never been great at art. He made peace with that, eventually.

"I still can't believe you went through all this trouble for me," Regina muttered, her fingers toying with his and her gaze falling from the ceiling to look at him. "I was going to be just as happy spending the day with you doing nothing, or maybe a walk in the park or something like that."

"In this weather?" Robin asked, his brows raised to his hairline and she chuckled, nodding her head. "We would've froze to death!"

"Or," she started with a click of her tongue and shifted further to her side, propping herself up on her elbow, "we would've kept each other warm."

He hummed in thought and bobbed his head in approval. Keeping each other warm did sound like a great idea, so he tightened his grip around her waist and pulled her on top of him, grinning cheekily at her surprised yelp. "Kinda like this?"

She laughed out loud as she balanced herself up on his torso. "Yes, _kinda_ like this."

She was quite the sight for the sore eyes, equally as stunning whether she was smiling at him or scowling. She was, without a hint of exaggeration, the most beautiful girl he laid his eyes on, inside out. Her personality was gold; she was bubbly and kind, and nurturing. And she was humble, too, always flashing everyone one of her bright smiles, friends and strangers alike, and consistently offering a helping hand.

Robin moved his hand up her back and tugged her down on him, lowering her enough to capture her lips in a searing kiss. Unlike the previous ones they shared, it wasn't sweet and innocent, it wasn't featherlight and short-lived. It was passionate, sloppy and soul-stirring. It was daring, with tongues included and their hands exploring each other's bodies—one of Regina's cradled the side of his face as the other travelled down his clothed chest, caressing it with a gentle touch, and he kept one hand over her hip, rubbing soothing circles with the pad of his thumb, the other stroking her side.

He wasn't naïve, he'd kissed before, gone beyond quick, stolen kisses, but none of them felt quite the same. None were as ardent, libidinous. They were driven by his raging hormones, the need to feel something, however, this, what was between him and Regina, was something else, something more.

It fed his soul.

"I want you," he murmured against her lips, almost hesitant, worried about how she might react to his forwardness. It was bold, he knew that, and he didn't want the words that came out of his mouth in the spur of the moment to ruin their night.

It didn't.

Regina broke the kiss with a breathless chuckle and nodded her head. "Me, too."

"Are you sure?"

"Completely," she replied, ripping her gaze away from his lips to meet his, and she simpered. "Nervous," she added, "but I've never been so sure about anything in my life before."

That was all the reassurance he needed to continue, pulling her down for another kiss, and she welcomed it with a laugh.

* * *

She never saw herself in this position, laying naked with a guy between her spread legs, expertly using his mouth to bring her pleasure. But there she was, welcoming Robin's stimulations with moans and whimpers.

It was surreal. Every flick of his tongue on her sensitive bud, every long, teasing stroke between her folds. And she should be tense and anxious, it was her first time—she'd never been with anyone before him, never had a boyfriend, never had a kiss, never been on a date before him, but she was as relaxed as she could be with his fingers prodding against her entrance. She was vocal, his name falling from her lips like a prayer with constant needy pleas.

"More," Regina begged, weaving her fingers through his hair and tugging, and Robin didn't disappoint.

He easily slipped two fingers into her, curling them and slowly pumping them in and out, gradually picking up the pace as he went, and his lips closed around her clit, firmly sucking on her bundle of nerves.

She enjoyed this, enjoyed every second of it. His touch felt so different than her own, his fingers filling her, rubbing her in ways hers couldn't.

She loosened her grip on his hair and lowered her hand to reach for his that laid on her hip, entwining their fingers together and guiding it up to her chest, and without further clarification, he curled his fingers over one mound, giving it a gentle squeeze before turning his attention to her nipple, teasing the hardened peak between his forefinger and thumb, then went on to give the other the same treatment, all the while thrusting his fingers into her.

She was on cloud nine, writhing and arching in pure ecstasy, and she was a few licks away from climaxing, but this wasn't how she wanted to come. She wanted to come around him.

"Stop," she breathed out, lightly pulling at the strands on his head to halt his movements, and he did, stopping and staring up at her, worry flickering his darkened slate blue eyes. She ran her fingers through his hair and flashed him a reassuring, satisfied smile. "Come here," she requested. "Enough foreplay, I want you."

Robin complied and hovered above her, then leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. It was strange tasting herself on him, a distinctive tang she couldn't quite figure out what lingering on his tongue-it wasn't unpleasant, though, merely unusual.

His arms slid under her as he nestled between her legs, his hips grinding into hers, his shaft in between her nether lips, rubbing on her clit, and his mouth moved away from hers, pressing wet pecks down her neck, along her collarbone and her cleavage, going over her breasts and around her nipples, deliberately avoiding them.

Fortunately, the torturous teasing didn't stretch for too long. He slipped an arm between their bodies, lined himself against her entrance and pushed in, filling her in one thrust.

If anyone had told her she'd lose her virginity on a vacation in New York to the son of her all-time favorite singer inside a blanket fort, Regina would've laughed. Out loud and wholeheartedly. It wasn't that it sounded like a storyline written out of a movie, when it most certainly did, or that she'd been saving herself for marriage, none of that nonsense, but because she was self-conscious. She never wore bikinis on the beach, and she stayed away from boys-not that she attracted a lot of them to begin with. All the cute boys she did spare a second glance were all interested in her friends.

She blamed her looks for the longest time; the fact that she had dark, frizzy hair rather than silky blonde, or that her eyes were too brown when boys admired the light ones, writing songs and poems about getting lost in emeralds and ocean blues. And she wasn't a size four or six, she didn't have a gap between her thighs, but Robin didn't seem to care. He liked her hair curly rather than straight and he complimented her eyes more times than she can count on both her hands, and he didn't make her feel embarrassed over not having a flat stomach, he didn't poke fun at her over the little pouch she supported. Instead, he kissed it, as he kissed every inch of her exposed skin. As he was kissing her chest while giving her time to adjust to his girth.

"You okay?" He lifted his head up and looked at her, despite the lust and desire that clouded over his eyes, there was also warmth and affection. She nodded her head wordlessly and he peppered a few more kisses up her neck. "Do you want to wait a little longer?" he offered.

"No," she replied, lacing her fingers with his that resided beside her head. "I'm good."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Even with her reassurance, he was unhurried and gentle, taking his time with her. He gave her attention as he pulled out and plunged right in again, sucking and nipping at her soft skin, some spots harder than the others, leaving different shades of red tint behind. She didn't mind the love bites, she was too drunk on ecstasy to care.

The room was filled with sounds of their lovemaking, her moans and his grunts combined with echoes of skin slapping against each other with every hard thrust. Somewhere in the midst of it, he grew more desperate, his pace became erratic, and she tried keeping up with it, tried to meet every thrust, but with his thumb rubbing firmly over her clit, it was impossible to focus on anything other than the pressure coiling in the pit of her stomach.

"Are you close?" he husked and she nodded her head rapidly, verbally answering in a high-pitch whine.

He moved faster, slid deeper and circled her bundle of nerves continually, and it was enough to drive her over the edge. Her eyes rolled back and her muscles tightened as her orgasm crashed over her, cries of pleasure erupting out of her. A couple more thrusts and he followed, filling her with his seed.

His cock pulsed inside her as the aftershocks of her climax rippled through her, and she let out a satisfied hum when he nuzzled into her neck, her fingernails scraping along the back of his head gently.

She knew the vacation would be pleasant, a nice getaway from everything that weighed her down, but it never crossed her mind that it might bring her the most memorable moments of her life.

She never thought it would be the beginning of something exceptional, unforgettable.

* * *

 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight mentions and references to self-harm. Nothing graphic.

**A/N:** Hello, hello…I know it’s been ages since I updated this story, but my reasons are my own and I won’t bore anyone with them. Still, I wanted to apologize for taking too long to get back to this. Also, **important note—** Regina’s dad in this fic is going to be a complete asshole, therefore, I won’t be writing his as Henry. Instead, he’s going to be Xavier…who I know is Regina’s grandfather, but for the sake of this story, let’s pretend otherwise. I mean, the family tree on the show is already fucked, why not ruin it some more, right?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my terrible mistakes, which, if you come across them, please point them out. Thank you!   


* * *

Sometime during the night they moved to the bedroom, where they made love once more before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

And it was the best sleep Robin ever had. 

Sex wasn’t at all a part of his plan, it never even crossed his mind when he put together their date. It was only meant to be dinner, dessert and a movie or two while cuddling on the couch. But one thing led to another and, well, they ended up in all their naked glory underneath the soft, cold duvet. 

His mother always told him stories about angels, about their massive, white wings that could shield the mortals from harm, about how majestic and beautiful they were, the wonders and miracles they could preform…and that they couldn’t be seen. 

That wasn’t true though. 

There was an angel right beside him. 

Her dark, curly hair tousled and sprawled over the pillow, her freckled skin marked with love bites, her face bare of any makeup, and while she didn’t have wings big enough to cover a continent, she was just as majestic, and her presence in his life alone was a miracle itself, a wonder. And she was the most stunning person he’d ever met. 

With the most trouble soul, too, it seemed. 

Robin knew she wasn’t the happiest person on the face of earth, that even with the smiles she wore and her witty personality, she masked great suffering behind it all. She vented to him, not often, not _enough_. He didn’t know the extent of her pain, until now. Until his gaze fell on her bare arms. 

She always covered them in long sleeves, no matter how hot and humid the weather was, and now he understood why. 

There were fading lines across her left arm and a couple over her right wrist, and they were drawn too deep to be mere scratches caused by clumsy accidents or angry pets. 

They were long, over a dozens of them aligned across her forearm. They were self-inflected—it wouldn’t take a genius to figure that out. 

But what could’ve possible hurt her to _that_ point? 

Someone so sweet, so compassionate, someone with a heart big enough to love the entire world unconditionally. How could anyone even think of hurting her? 

It made no sense. But again, the world was a cruel place, it rarely ever made sense. 

His eyes welled up with tears but he was quick to blink them away before they had the chance to fall, then let go of the breath he was holding when his thumb brushed over her skin. 

None were recent. _Thank God_. 

His shoulders sagged in relief and he wrapped her up in his embrace, holding her tight and close, burying his face in her hair, and she stirred, burrowing further into him with a sleepy hum. 

She’d been so carefree for the past two weeks. The smiles never left her face and the laughs continuously poured out of her. He dreaded the thought of her leaving and returning back to the place that tormented her. And for once, he wasn’t too eager to go back to holding his guitar and playing his music. Reality was far sweeter than his dreams could ever be. 

* * *

It was still dark out when Robin roused the first time, and the bright numbers flashing on his phone confirmed it. Three-thirty in the morning—too early for anyone to be awake. But he stirred at the light movements of the beauty laying in his arms, shifting to press her back further into him.

The second time was when his phone dinged at the arrival of a new text. Killian bluntly asking if they’d slept together already. He ignored that text and responded to the one that followed instead, the reminder of the plane they had to catch in a few. 

Ah, yes. That again. 

He tossed his phone aside with a huff and laid back down, facing the ceiling for a moment as his thoughts consumed him 

Eight months. He’d known Regina for eight months—was it too early to say he’d fallen in love with her? 

Was it _possible_ to fall in love with someone that fast? 

Perhaps. Most definitely. 

People talked about love at first sight, about how surprisingly quick falling for someone could be, given the right person and the right time. 

His parents were the perfect example. His father fell in love with his mother the moment their eyes caught and vice versa, and they’d been together for a little over twenty-two years.

Could it truly be love though, what’s between them? 

He never felt anything quite like it before—like his heart would burst from beating so fast at the mere thought of her, or his stomach fluttering at the sound of her laughter and the sight of her smile. He never thought of someone for twenty-four-seven either. He never stayed up late at night, grinning down at his cellphone like an idiot while reading and responding to messages, or skipped a family tradition and crossed the country just to spend it with another. 

So maybe it was love after all. 

And as scary as the thought was, he didn’t hate it. 

Robin climbed out of bed, gathered his clothes and slipped them on, then took advantage of the little extra time he had in hand to tidy up the apartment by discarding the blown out candles and the paper stars. He returned the living room to its original state by taking the blanket fort down and folding the sheets away, shifting the couch back in place along with the cushions, and picking up the petals he scattered all around. Though, he saved a couple, along with a single paper star—a reminder of their perfect night. 

A moment he hoped he’d never forget. 

The dishes were next. He made sure the plates and glasses were spotless, and as Regina instructed, he stacked the leftovers in the aluminum foil trays she bought at the beginning of their vacation, covered them and kept them aside. 

He knew what their purpose was, he knew Regina all too well to know what she intended on doing with them, even if she hadn’t uttered a single word about it. And he loved her all the more for it. His sweet, sweet Cherry. 

Lastly, he wrote her a note—an apology for leaving without a proper goodbye. But he had to get to the apartment he shared with Killian, pack his belongings and leave for the airport, and after all the cleaning he’d done, there just wasn’t enough time for him to sit back and enjoy a nice breakfast with her. And she looked far too peaceful and content to be woken up, he’d hate to disturb her. So he laid the note on the pills beside her and left her with a kiss on the forehead, and a whisper, a promise to make time to see her again. Soon. 

* * *

Regina woke up to the sound of the alarm on her phone going off. The blasted thing scared the crap out of her, and aside from the loud ringing that made her jump out of her skin, the apartment was uncomfortably quiet.

Robin was gone. 

She expected that, but the disappointment was still there, eating at her. 

He didn’t abandon her, no. The note she found by her side proved it, and the couple of texts he sent her, too. 

_Good morning, beautiful. I miss you already. I did as you requested, the leftovers are in the oven xxx_

_Oh, and I hope you like my surprise!_

She did. She really did. 

What a _sweet_ surprise it was. 

There were dozens and dozens of Hershey’s Kisses scattered across the bed, and in her two favorite kinds—the cookies and cream, and the milk chocolate almond ones. 

She was giddy, couldn’t even contain the light giggle escaping her at his cheesy note. 

_Here are some of my kisses to last you a lifetime, or until I can have your lips on mine again. Soon, I promise._

_Love, Robin._

_PS; I can’t wait to see you, I miss you, just incase I haven’t said that enough to you._

Her fingertips brushed over her lips, and the feeling of his on them still lingered. His mouth on hers, on her neck, her breasts, and down…down where her imagination never dared to stray before. Her face flushed at the memories. God, there wasn’t an inch of her he’d left untouched last night. He cherished her, every exposed part of her. And every part she kept hidden, too. He cherished it, he cared for it. 

“I miss you, too.” 

* * *

The day started out perfect, even with Emma’s constant whining over Regina’s refusal to give out any details about her night with Robin. It was their special moment, theirs alone—and she couldn’t, even if she wanted to. The thought itself made her blush. What was she going to say, that Robin gave her one mind-blowing orgasm after another? They might’ve spent their lives sharing secrets with each other, but this one she wanted to keep to herself.

Regina gave away the leftovers to the homeless people she encountered on the streets on her way to the airport, along with a few of the Hershey’s Kisses and a five-dollar bill to each out of the fifty bucks Robin left behind on the counter with a note instructing her to do just that. What a sweetheart. It was unexpected, but she loved him all the more for it.

_Love_.

She couldn’t recall ever experiencing that feeling, but she knew it was that. She knew she loved him. 

Unsurprisingly, it was though her marvelous dream was replaced by the recurring nightmare she was never able to escape the second she stepped a foot into Tampa again. Her shoulders heavy with the weight of the world, her heart filled with dread. 

_Home sweet home._ Funny, she never felt like home here. 

It was the place she was born at and grew up in, the place with the familiar faces who faked back the smiles she flashed them. But it wasn’t home. 

Her parents were fighting, again. The way her father glowered at his plate during dinner and her mother stayed quiet gave it away. Zelena was oblivious, as always—lucky her. Not a care in the world as she chatted away about all the toys she got for Christmas and which ones were her favorites, while she lugged the burden of it all. Of every goddamn argument they had, shoved in the middle, forced to take sides. 

It wasn’t fair. 

It wasn’t fair that she had to grow up so fast, had to worry and mature because of parents’ fights at such a young age. 

It wasn’t fair that her tears at seven-years-old were caused by the smashing sounds and screams, but her sister’s tears were shed over not getting another one of the the toys she _really, really wanted_. 

Regina played with her food for a while, then excused herself and rushed into the safety of her bedroom, her haven. Nothing followed after the door was closed, none of their nonsense ever did. For that, she was grateful, even if it was a temporary fix.

It wouldn’t keep their troubles out forever, but it did for a while. And something was better than nothing. 

She sluggishly slumped back onto her mattress, still cladded in her traveling clothes. To hell with changing and unpacking, all she wanted to do was sleep. For hours and hours without any disturbance. 

But her phone vibrated beside her, and without even so much as glancing in its direction, she smiled knowingly.

Robin. 

_“Hey, beautiful. Arrived safely?”_

And just like that, every worry consuming her disappeared. 

_“I did. Sorry I didn’t text earlier, was busy. What about you, arrived in one piece?”_

She watched him type and wondered, was he supporting his usual cocky, dimpled grin, or was he chuckling at her reply? She could hear his laugh echoing through, bringing a coy smile to her face. 

_“Sure did, cherry.”_

_“What are you doing up late anyways?”_

_“I’m attempting to write…”_

_“I take it it’s not going too well?”_

_“No, because there’s this lovely lady that keeps popping into my head and distracting me.”_

She grinned. At least the feeling was mutual—she couldn’t stop thinking about him either. 

_“Oh no, whatever will you do now?”_

He typed, then stopped. It took him an entire minute before responding again.

_“Well, I can think of a few things that might help…”_

The excitement bubbled inside her, the pressure swirling and growing in the pit of her stomach. She pulled her lip between her teeth and tapped away her reply. 

_“Dare I ask?”_

_“My lips on yours…”_

He began, and continued in a following text. 

_“And I’m not talking about your mouth.”_

Heat spread up her neck to her cheeks as the memories of the passionate night they shared came flooding back. She was hesitant at first, worried that she might disappoint him by not finding the act pleasurable no matter what he did, or not being attractive enough for him. But oh, she was wrong. It was incredible, and Robin was full praises, complimenting words that encouraged her and filled her with confidence. 

_“But since you’re miles and miles away, making it entirely impossible. I think hearing your voice will suffice…for now.”_

And who was she to turn him down? 

She dialed up his number and waited as it rang. Once, twice—and he picked up before the third came along, just as she stepped out of her bedroom. 

_“Cherry!”_

She could hear the smile in his voice. If only he’d tell her the reason behind that nickname already. It’s been months and he still refused, not even giving her a clue. _All in good time_ , he’d argue. Patience was never her strong suit, but she’d wait. 

Staying put in her place while on the phone was never something Regina was able to do. She had to walk, aimlessly wander around. She’d even open doors and close them multiple times for no reason at all. And that’s exactly how she found herself in the backyard late at night, halfway through her conversation with Robin about which word rhymed best with _dreams_. Aside from the gentle sounds of the leaves rustling with every chilly blow of wind, and the chirping sounds of the crickets, it was complete silence. 

Until she heard it. Barely audible murmurs coming from around the tall bushes her father planted. 

“Hold on a second,” she whispered into the phone, ignoring Robin’s _Are you okay?_ as she followed the voice. 

It was her father, chatting away with whoever was on the other end of the line—and whoever it was, it had to be someone important. Because he was chuckling, and Xavier Mills never chuckled. For as long as she could remember, not around his family or anyone else she’d known, not so lightheartedly anyways. He was being humorous, joking about something she was too dumbfounded to care about. 

“Yeah? Well, I can’t wait to see you again. Tonight? No, I can’t tonight…” 

His voice droned out, and Regina’s frown deepened. It could be anything, she reasoned, a slight misunderstanding. But she wasn’t a wide-eyed four-year-old anymore to believe that—taking a call late at night, outside where her mother couldn't hear? The teasing tones, the whispers, the secrecy? She couldn’t grasp onto false hope and keep living in a world of fantasy. Pretending things were different wasn’t going to make them different. 

Did it really come as a surprise, though? 

Her father never was a faithful man, from what she heard. He’d been cheating on her mother with countless different women long before she was even born. However, witnessing it before her was tougher than eavesdropping on these rumors. 

Regina swallowed the lump jammed in her throat and blinked away the tears misting her vision. “I—I have to go,” she breathed out, not giving Robin a chance to argue as she hung up and rushed inside. 

Emma was right, life was against them. As soon as they’d feel the slightest sense of happiness, something terrible would happen to take it all away. It always did.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a short chapter, I apologize. I really have no excuse other than the fact that I actually thought it'd be longer lol


End file.
